i wonder if she remembers this night

1. I dont love you anymore, but this, this shattered me a little.
2. It isn’t seeing your hand in theirs that’s the problem, it’s that you look at her the way you used to look at me.
3. Every little thing you did that made me feel so special you do with her now. Seeing you move your fingers along hers makes the air leave my chest. It was our thing. A quiet little reassurance that no matter what was going on you were there.
4. If you can give every piece of yourself that i had to her did i ever have any part of you to begin with?
5. You were just here. This is too fast.
6. I would ask if she made you happy, if you were happy, if only you would read my texts.
7. It’s the loss of our friendship that keeps me up at night. We were friends once, remember?
8. It’s funny how things change. You used to say my eyes were a home you never had. Now you can’t even meet them.
9. That one night we layed in bed until the morning hour bonding over our belief in ghosts. It was then i realized your past haunts you the way the monsters in your closet do as a child.
10. I wonder if i’m one of your ghosts now. The woman you never had the courage to keep. Tell me do i haunt you?
11. I hope to god i do. At least then i know you still remember me.
12. I was crying the night you told me you loved me. I know you pretend you never said it. You never did want to love me. Trust me, i wish i could forget it too.
13. Some words never get a chance to be said, so i’ll just say this.
14. I hope she reaches the part of your heart i never got to touch.
—  seeing your new girlfriend for the first time// 4am

dancing-thru-clouds  asked:

I would like for you to tell stupid tourist stories? Your story-telling style is very engaging.

First of all, thank you very much!

Since flattery will get you pretty much anywhere, allow me to tell you The Tale Of Jar-Jar.

The First year my family moved to Colorado, my family decided to take the annual summer camping trip to Yellowstone, now that we were on the right side of the rockies for it.  So we pile into the car with all my mom’s immortal camping gear from the 70′s (srsly, I still have the Colemann stove and cooler.  They work perfect)  and Cody,The Gentleman Shepherd.  

Due to Wyoming looking mostly like the ugly parts of Mad Max, we got onto the wrong highway and arrived after dark.  Cody waited patiently in the backseat rather than set up in the rain.  Gentlemanly.

The next morning, Mom is doing something miraculous with the Colemann and there is a breakfast of pancakes, eggs and bacon.  The sun is shining.  The birds are singing.  All is serene and beautiful. 

Then the people in the next site pull up.   They arrive in a Brand-spanking new Ford Pickup towing a trailer that looks like it was salvaged of a 50′s atomic test field.  The Husband emerges first and…

I don’t like judging people based on appearance but Man, when a dude walks out of a pickup wearing a confederate flag hat, and half of a mullet one tends to make assumptions.  

The eldest child came out next, a boy of about 12, with a rat-tail.
Followed by his brother, a boy of about 10, with a rat-tail
Followed by his brother, a boy of about 8, with a rat-tail.
Followed by his brother, a boy of about 6, with a rat-tail.
Followed by his brother, a boy of about 4, with a rat-tail.

The wife finally emerges, looking like death warmed over and carrying a boy of about two, with a rat-tail.  It is unclear if she has poor posture or if she is pregnant again.  The Boys capable of standing all immediately do so at the border of our site, staring covetously at my bacon.

Finally, with a loud plop and wheezing noise, comes thier dog, for a given value of dog.  Pugs are not terribly healthy-looking creatures at the best of times, but this poor thing looked like the canine equivalent of a Hapsburg.  One eye was so bulged as to be permanently wall-eyed, and his jaw jutted out in front of him at a distressingly kapakahi angle. 

“C’mere Jar-Jar!” hollers the Husband.

“Good God.” muttered my father.

The adults proved over the course of the next hour to be loathsome creatures- Husband was constant’y screaming at the boys the “fuckin’ get me the thing, you little-”  then getting mad when asked for clarification on ‘which thing?’.  The Wife was a non-stop stream of complaint- the sun is too hot, the shade is too cold, the tent is too far, the birds are too loud, and everything is awful, I’m going to complain to the ranger.  Eventually they got their camp set up, and Husband cracked his first beer of the day as we finished locking the bear box and leaving to hike.  It was about 10 AM.

We return some hours later to a very animated discussion between Wife and the Camp Supervisor about “I have rights you know!” vs. “Ma’am, we are under an extreme fire danger warning, and Fireworks have been banned in the park for ages.”  Jar-Jar, eager to avoid any outbursts, has scuttled under our bear box, wheezing in agitation.  Cody, ever gallant, positions himself between Jar-Jar and his mistress, doing his best impression of a Real Shepherd Who Isn’t Scared of Mice and Snowflakes.  Husband is unseen, but there are several beer cans in the fire grate.

That evening’s campfire, normally a time to listen to nocturnal wildlife and the Quiet noises of wild places, is instead a time to listen to drunken racist jokes, a sobbing toddler and Husband screeching “SAY AI WANNIT” whilst dangling scraps in front of jar-jar, until the dog stood on his legs and danced, garbling “Ai-Wa-War”  in a voice that sounded less like a bark and more like late-stage emphysema, before collapsing on what looked like sore joints.

Late that night, my parents discuss packing up and looking for a site in Teton down the road over the sounds of half-assed drunken sex.

The boys, in spite of their parents, are well mannered, intelligent and engaging to talk to, and seem content to frolic in the woods around the site, examining rocks and plants and the occasional insect.  Dad has a nice time telling them about the Yellowstone supervolcano whilst their parents have vanished to parts unknown.  Jar-jar remains off-lead and un-collared the entire time, huffing and puffing as he tries to keep up.  Still, five boys is perhaps too much attention for an elderly pug, and the too-hard petting and pulling of ears and tail and suchlike is tolerated with an exasperated whine and vacations under our bear-box. 

The second night, Husband was furious about something, cursing up a storm and throwing things and generally having a tantrum.  The eldest boy said something to him and he bore down on him, hand raised and screaming something about ‘useless pieces of shit.”
-When they were interrupted by my mother stepping into their site, all four feet eleven inches of ill-contained fury, staring him down.

“I was wondering.”  She said, eyes not moving from him. “If I could borrow some matches.”
“Ours got wet.” Dad added, immediately behind her, less as support than restraint.

I remember how ghastly quiet the woods got for a moment there, watching the scene unfold from behind Cody, the only sounds the campfire and crickets.

“Uh, yeah.  Matches.”  The Wife muttered, and it was enough to get Husband to back down.

“You have lovely children.”  Dad continued.  “Very smart, very polite.”
“You must be so blessed.” My mother adds, only slightly spitting the word.

My parents take the matches and talk a bit longer but I couldn’t hear.  Husband gave up, flopping down in his chair, but not before giving Jar-Jar a kick.

The next morning, as my family was packing up to head down to Teton instead, The Eldest boy approached us, concerned.

“Sir?”  he asked dad.  “Have you seen jar-jar?”

We hadn’t actually, his gravely groveling notably absent that morning at breakfast.  My sister and I went on a search with the boys through the camp, but to no avail.  We did find Wife, complaining to the campground host that there were too many wild animals around.  In the National Park.  Saddened and trying to give the boys some hope that perhaps jar-Jar had not been eaten by the coyotes, we left.

On the way out the main gate, we ended up behind a Buick with Florida plates, driven by a couple well into their octogenarian period, at about seven miles per hour.  As they stopped at the checkout gate, clearly asking for directions, a dog climbed up to sit in the back window.  A fat, lop-sided, wall-eyed little Pug, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

And that’s the story of how Jar-jar escaped the Hell family to Florida.

Night Owls--Harry Hook x Reader

Disclaimer-I don’ t own any of the Descendants characters all credit goes to the creators and producers of Disney Descendants 

Summary-You are a part of Uma’s crew, and you have a crush on Uma’s first mate, Harry Hook. One night, you get caught wondering in the deck by Harry himself.

Originally posted by unchxxrted

You take in the sight around you. The fresh salty air blowing through your hair as you breath it all in. Oh how you loved the sea. You hoped to one day be able to set sail on the open waves once again, but that was impossible, since the magical barrier prevented anyone from leaving this foul place. 

 It was dark outside and every one of the crew members were asleep. Being one of the lower ranked members of Captain Uma’s crew, you never really get a chance to enjoy the view of the ocean and horizon. You were mostly instructed to stay below deck, watching all the supplies to ensure nothing went missing. The only times you ever came above deck was when you went out to get a meal at Ursula’s Fish and Chips shop. Not much ever really happened on the Jolly Roger. The only reason you really stayed in this crew was because of Harry Hook. 

He was Uma’s first mate, son of Captain Hook, and the only person able to make you blush by just glancing at you. His tall, tanned figure towered above you and and the majority of the crew members. His clothes consisted of red and black, and many layers of leather, with a hat that shields his hair, though you occasionally saw him without it, revealing a thick mane of dark hair. Even his facial features were sharper than the hook he carried around to seem more like his father. 

But what always caught you’re attention the most were his eyes. He had blue eyes that were lighter than the sea, and stood out even more when he outlined them with black liner. They mostly held a stern look, but occasionally held affection and care. They showed his passion, his triumph, and his determination to make it known that Uma and her crew were not to be messed with. You admired that to most. 

But you never got to spend time with him. He was always commanding the others, carrying out Uma’s demands while you listened to his voice from down below. His Scottish accent was never hard to miss, and hard to resist. Even when the crew was at the chip shop, you sat on the far side of the counter while he was by Uma’s side, causing mischief with other members by shoving them and showing his dominance over them. He did that to the entire crew. 

Well, everyone except Uma. 

And you. 

Too busy in your own thoughts, you failed to hear the scuffle of boots along the deck. With a clearing of his throats you turned your head, and your breath hitched. 

There, before you in all his glory, was Harry himself. He was without his coat or hat, only his leather pants and belt clung loosely on his waist, his torn undershirt over his chest. His hair was uncovered, all tangled and rearranged, from tossing and turning in his sleep you assumed. He smirked a little, and slowly walked towards you. 

“Well, well, well,” he smiled, his stare never leaving your own. “What do we have here? A little night owl hovering about?” 

His voice seemed playful, but then again, he always used a playful tone when he knew he had the upper hand. You gulped, not wanting to respond. “Aw, why so quiet, catfish caught yer tongue?” 

You remained silent, which only made him chuckle. He came closer, making you pull away. You knew you were gonna be in trouble, since you weren’t supposed to be up and about in the middle of the night. It was one of Uma’s rules. 

He continued to snicker, watching you tremble under his gaze. You shifted your eyes to the ground, catching the glare of his hook on one of his belt loops. You began to pant. 

“I-I’m sorry, H-Harry,” you whispered, still shaking. 

“Ah she speaks!” He mocked, taking his right hand to lift your chin. “What are ye doing wondering around late at night. Uma would make ye fish bate if she found out.” 

You took a deep breath. “I-I don’t know, couldn’t sleep I guess.” He didn’t respond. For awhile he looked at you, as if he was trying to remind himself where he had seen you. Then, he remembered. “You work below deck, don’t ya?” You nodded the best you can, since his finger still held your chin up. He smiled a bit, but not in a evil way. “Uh huh, I’ve seen you around, you talk with that Gary fella, right?” 

Gary was your friend, though he wanted to be more. You always rejected him, but continued to talk to him nonetheless, since you didn’t really know anyone else. 

“Y-Yes,” you stuttered. 

“Poor fella, I’ve seen his attempts, yet ye never give him the light of day.” He snickered again. “What’s your name, little owl?” 

“Y-Y/N.” 

He kept looking at you, watching as your chest rose and fell at a steady pace. Then he spoke again. “So tell me, Y/N. Why don’t ya give the lad a chance, aye?” 

You thought about it for a moment and said, “He isn’t my type.” Your courage began to grow slightly as the lack of space between the two of you increased by the minute. 

His hand move from your chin to rest it on the post that pinned you, just to the left side of your head. His toned biceps came to view as he barely whispered, “And what, my little owl, is your type?” 

You couldn’t help the shiver as his breath fanned over your lips. You didn’t know what to do, what to say. Here you were, pinned to the mast post, in the middle of the night, by the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, who is asking you what your type was. You so desperately wanted to tell him that the only person to make your heart soar and butterflies to erupt was the one standing in front of you, but you couldn’t. You froze. 

Harry waited for your answer, but then he spoke up, “Well, do you know what my type is?” He smiled, leaning closer to you. You shook your head. His eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips and back, smirking at your obvious heavy breaths. 

“My type,” he said barely above a whisper, “is a shy, timid girl, one no one really likes to point out.” You were confused as you why he was telling you this, but let him go on anyway. He pushed back a piece of hair behind your ear with left hand, letting it gently stroke your cheek as he continued. 

“My type is a girl who tries to steal glances of me, thinking I can’t see her, when I actually catch her every time, trying to do the same thing.” His hand continued down, stroking your jaw and collar bone, down your shoulder and arm until he grasped your right hand. He looked down at your two hands and smiled. 

“My type is the one who doesn’t fight for my affection, the one who only need to laugh to make my head spin.” He spoke, lifting your hand ever so carefully, sensing your ease as your shakiness subsided. He looked straight into your eyes, bringing your hand closer to his lips, gently placing a kiss onto it, and never breaking eye contact, not before he spoke, with a voice barely audible, “My type is you, Y/N.” 

His words ran a shiver up your spine, your eyes meeting his light ones. You wanted to tell him you felt the same way, but your heart was racing at his confession. His smile grew at your reaction, evolving in to a full on grin. He took this moment to admire you. 

Your long H/C hair circling your face as the wind blew it and how the moonlight reflected the glow in your E/C eyes. His thumb gently touched your bottom lip, which were oh so tempting. 

He couldn’t take it anymore. 

He leaned in and captured his lips with yours, caressing both your cheeks as he did. To say you were shocked was an understatement. Your eyes were wide, as you didn’t know what to do at first, until you kissed him back. Once he felt you giving into him, he pulled you closer by your waist, allowing your right hand to stroke up his arm. He went to deepen the kiss, biting your bottom lip and giggling when you let out a little squeal. He picked you by your thighs, pushing you harder against the post, never letting the kiss end. You let out a gasp as you felt his lips leave yours, only to latch onto your neck, and up to the sensitive skin by your ear, nibbling it ever so slightly. Your fingers ran through his hair, earning a groan from him as you did so. He soon returned to your lips, picking the pace back up. 

Eventually, you pushed against him, your breaths heavy, leaving your hands to rest against his chest. He looked up at you, a cocky smile on his face. 

“So, I guess I’m yer type then, aye?”

anonymous asked:

Can you do a Steve Harrington imagine where him and his girlfriend (the Reader) are at a party and she gets drunk and he’s afraid it’s gonna be like what happened with Nancy at the party when she got wasted, but instead she’s a happy drunk and just clings to him and drunkenly tells him how much she loves him ?❤️

Summary: Steve tends not to get drunk at parties after what happened with Nancy, but you’re not afraid of getting absolutely trashed. Steve worries you’ll say something like Nancy said, but in reality, it’s the complete opposite.
Pairing: Reader x Steve Harrington.
Fandom: Stranger Things.
Warnings: Swearing.
Word Count: 964

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His || Jungkook || 0.10

Member: Jungkook x Reader

Type: Angst, Fluff, Smut.

Teaser | 0.1 | 0.2 | 0.3 | 0.4 | 0.5 | 0.6 | 0.7 | 0.8 | 0.9 | 0.10 

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The Bughead reconciliation we deserved

This is totally rushed and emotionally charged and probably has errors but enjoy

Jughead trudged home, the energy sapped from his body as the crushing weight of reality pushed further onto his shoulders. He couldn’t believe it: Mr. Phillips, the one person at Southside who had appeared to take genuine interest in Jughead, was the Sugarman. As if he didn’t have enough going against him.

He walked up the steps to the trailer, quickly slamming open the door and preparing to head straight for the fridge when he realized that the door should have been locked. 

He looked up, surprised to find a very nervous looking Betty Cooper standing in his living room. Quickly glancing down to check her fists, a habit he would need to work on letting go, Jughead breathed a small sigh of relief to find her fingernails free of her palms.

The relief was short lived, however, as an uncomfortable tension settled between them.

“What are you doing here?”

His voice was rough, a combination of anger and exhaustion giving his tone a darker coloring. Betty took a nervous breath, and he couldn’t help but feel a small sense of satisfaction as her eyes clouded with apprehension. She should be on edge. She didn’t belong here, not after she made it very clear that she was too good for Serpent trash like him. 

“Jug, there’s something I need to tell you.” She took a small step forward, to which Jughead parried with a small step back. He watched as her lips, once warm and lush and pink, tightened into a thin white line. 

“What? Are you here to tell me that you still love me again?” He crossed his arms across his chest, releasing a laugh that contained absolutely no humor. “Pretty sure you’ve already poured enough salt on that wound for one week, thanks.”

He moved into the kitchen, hoping that if he just walked away maybe she would get the message and let herself out. He couldn’t deal with this right now. He already had so much going wrong this week.

Of course, in typical Betty Cooper fashion, she didn’t leave. Instead she followed him toward the kitchen, leaning over the counter as she watched his back.

“Jughead, please. I need to tell you the truth. There are things you don’t know.”

“Yeah, well, that makes two of us.” Jughead mumbled beneath his breath, opening the fridge and pretending to survey it’s decidedly empty shelves.

He didn’t even have to look up to know Betty had furrowed her brow, “What does that mean?” She asked, her voice hardening just a bit.

He closed the fridge, looking her dead in the eye with as cold an expression as he could manage.

“Toni and I kissed. More than once.”

He wasn’t sure why he said it - maybe because he wanted to hurt her like she’d hurt him, or because he wanted to prove to her that he was fine without her. Something inside him told him it was more likely that he was simply incapable of keeping such truth from her. Absolutely none of him felt any better when he saw the pain in her eyes.

“Oh.” She whispered, her eyes flickering down to the floor, “Did it - I mean - Did it mean anything?”

Jughead shrugged, “What does it matter? You broke up with me, remember?”

“I did it to protect you!” Betty’s voice rose suddenly, before quickly finding its way back down to a whisper, “I did it to protect you.”

Jughead sighed, backing out of the kitchen to meet Betty on the other side of the dividing wall, “From what? The Serpents? Newsflash - you’re a little late.” He pushed up the sleeve of his t-shirt, revealing the black and green ink that hid underneath. Betty’s eyes widened, just a bit, but she quickly composed herself. Not that it mattered - he knew she was judging him. “Go ahead,” He growled, “Say it - say what you’re thinking. Say all the things you sent Archie to.”

“Jughead that’s not - What Archie said, none of it was true.” Betty looked up at him, her glassy green eyes searching his for even a semblance of understanding. “I told you I would support you, and I meant it. I still do.”

Jughead was reeling with emotion. Why did she have to be here? Saying these stupid things in that stupid soft voice of hers and looking at him with those stupid eyes. His whole body ached just thinking about her, her very presence leaving him feeling like an addict who had just been offered one last hit. He wanted her out, wanted the pain to just stop, but he took one last mistaken look at her crumpled appearance and couldn’t stop his heart from faltering.

“If what Archie said wasn’t true, then why would you break up with me? Why would you -” Jughead’s voice gave out, his throat tightening as he attempted to hold back his emotions, “Why would you take away the only good thing I had left?”

“Jughead,” Betty stepped forward, reaching out to stroke his face on instinct before realizing better and pulling away. 

“Just tell me what is going on Betty.” He was practically pleading now, desperate to know why she had left him. Why, if she never wanted to see him again, she had insisted on helping with the drag race and jumped in his car to ensure they both escaped the police safely. Why, if she really didn’t want him to be a part of his life anymore, she would tell him she still loved him.

Betty took a deep breath, and Jughead braced himself for whatever was about to come next.

“The Black Hood - he contacted me.”

“With the letter, I know.” 

Betty shook her head, “The letter was just the beginning. Last week, I started getting these phone calls. He’s been calling me, threatening me, threatening Polly and Veronica, threatening…”

“Me?” Jughead asked, the pieces in his mind slowly clicking together. He couldn’t believe he had been stupid. He had been too distracted by his insecurities and his anger to recognize what had been going on. He hadn’t even questioned it when Archie had appeared at his door, hadn’t even doubted that Betty was abandoning him. He’d just left her at the mercy of a psychopath. “Oh God, Betty -”

“Please,” Betty started, “forgive me Jughead. I… I understand if you want to be with Toni, if she makes you happy, but I don’t think I can live with myself if you don’t forgive me.”

She looked so small standing in front of him, so vulnerable and so very unlike the Betty Cooper he had fallen for. She had sacrificed so much for him, he couldn’t believe he’d been so selfish.

“Betty,” Jughead rushed forward, capturing her cheeks in his hands and pressing his lips in a bruising kiss. She released a slight sob against his lips, quickly grasping on to the fabric of his shirt and relaxing against him. He breathed her in, the fog that had been surrounding him lifting and giving way to a buzz of pure adrenaline. When pulled away, pressing his forehead against hers and wiping a stray tear from her cheek. “I’m so so sorry. I can’t believe I didn’t even notice -”

“No, Jughead - it’s my fault.” Betty placed a hand over his heart, “If I had just talked to you -”

“We should have talked to each other.” He reached up and took her hand into his own, melding his fingers with hers and wishing he could never let go, “I shouldn’t have just taken Archie at his word. I should have fought for you -”

Betty cut him off with a kiss, softer than the first but just as full. “Let’s just forget all of it, okay?” She smiled at him, that wonderful Betty Cooper smile. It hadn’t even been a week, but oh how he’d missed that smile.

If love were a drug, Betty Cooper was, without a doubt, the most addictive of them all.

“I love you.” He whispered against her chin, slowly tracing kisses along her jawline as his fingers trailed around her waist. “I love you, I love you, I love you…”

Betty captured his face in her hands, bringing his eyes up to meet her own. They were brighter than before, shining exactly the way he remembered them at night. “I love you too.” She said, her lips brushing against his with every syllable, before crashing down into him once more.

We Are Young: Chapter 5

Throne of Glass High School AU

Summary: Senior Rowan Whitethorn is new to town. It doesn’t take him long to get use to a new school, make new friends, even join the local hockey team. But it also doesn’t take him long to meet sophomore and figure skater Aelin Galathynius. And it doesn’t take him long to realize one thing; he can’t stand her.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter 

——————–

Where’s my bra?

That was the only thought running through Aelin’s head as she stood there, in the middle of Rowan’s bedroom. With Rowan sitting in his bed, shirtless.

Obviously there were more important matters at hand.

An eerie silence draped over the room. Neither one of them spoke, neither one of them even knew what to say. And, if she was being honest, Aelin was half afraid that if she opened her mouth, she may actually be sick.

She tried to work around the fog that laced her memoires. She tried to think of what the hell happened last night. More importantly, how she came to be standing before Rowan in just her underwear. But she was coming up empty. Everything was a big drunken blur. The last thing she remembered was her and Fenrys kicking Dorian and Manon’s asses at beer pong - and even that was fuzzy.

Where’s my bra? And pants.

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The Friendly Wager (Part 6)

Summary: AU. Reader and Bucky Barnes are neighbors and best friends. After yet another bad date, reader comes home to find Bucky with his typical weekend target. They decide to make a wager about dating, but is there more on the line than reader cares to admit?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 4,608 (went really overboard)

Warnings: language, lots of bad language, fluff, sarcasm, drinking, implied drunkenness, angst, regret, hangover, confrontation, stupid feelings are stupid yeah?

A/N: This is my submission for the lovely Kait’s ( @bionic-buckyb) 5k AU Challenge. Congrats on the followers, friend! My prompt was “Can you please come over so I don’t feel so alone?

Second to last part! Tags are closed. I loved all your messages so much!

Part 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7

Originally posted by captaincentenarian

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Jimin’s runaway daughter. pt.3

Jimin’s DaughterAU!

Genre: Angst

[pt.1] [pt.2] [pt.3] [pt.4] [pt.5 Finale]

Warning: Sensitive Content (mentions of abuse; read at own risk)


Originally posted by jeonyween

Dad went to work early this morning and so did mum, I was left alone in the house and I was actually glad to be by myself - with no one else around me. Now, I wouldn’t mind if it were dad keeping me company, but his schedules were always so full that it was rare for me to be home with him and only him. Usually, it’d be mum and I here - she’d finish work at your regular five o’clock and be home by six. That’s the time I dreaded the most, nothing’s worse than being home with her, alone. Dad never gets back until late, if he even bothers returning at all for the night. Sometime’s he’d practice until ungodly hours and just end up staying with his members at the dorm because he didn’t want to come back at four in the morning and wake us all up. I’d see him less during comeback times because he’d be so busy, not that he’s not busy near enough all year round but I could end up going days without seeing him because he just couldn’t find the time to stay at home. For that, I missed him a lot and that was also the reason why he would never believe me when I say that mum hates me.

Sometimes it’d get really lonely, I’m homeschooled because my mother decided it was best for me to stay and learn from home so that I wouldn’t attract unnecessary attention that could damage dad’s reputation, but really she only started keeping me away from the outside world when she started beating me, the real reason why she doesn’t want me out there was because of the injuries I would have, which would of course attract attention. My mother was awful, but I can’t deny that she’s smart. She’d only hit me if she knew dad wasn’t coming up that night, so she doesn’t end up risking being caught.

The dreaded time of day was inching closer and closer by the second, mum was going to be home any minute now and it’d be the first time I was alone with her since running away yesterday. I remembered her words, or more so ‘threats’ so clearly, the amount of venom I felt from her voice surprised me because I didn’t die then and there after she had whispered in my ear. She beats me so badly, sometimes I wonder why she doesn’t just kill me altogether. Why she doesn’t just take out a knife from the kitchen drawer and aim it directly at my heart. I assume that the pain the knife would bring, would be easier to handle than the constant punches, the kicks, the hair pulling and the scratches. Because the aftermath of her beatings are mentally traumatising, but if she killed me with a knife, I’d be dead and wouldn’t even have to think about anything else after. If you can’t tell already, I’m obviously an optimistic person - please note my sarcasm. I used to be a bright child, people always thought I was a smaller version of my dad because of how much of a ‘sunshine’ I was, knowing that my father was part of the sunshine line of BTS. But when the day came where my mother told me she no longer loved me, I knew I had changed.

I was currently in the kitchen, cutting up some onions for tonight’s dinner as I heard my mum walk through the front door, with a few clicks of her heels as she took her shoes off to heavy footsteps coming my way. I held my breath as I heard her come closer, tears already brimming my eyes because I was so petrified of her.

“I’m home, bitch.” I turned slowly and faced her, but not once could I look her in the eyes, I was simply too afraid to do so. “I get back and you don’t even know how to greet me, did I not teach you your manners? Is this how it is after you’ve called me a bitch in front of your dad?” She taunted me, she knew very well where my breaking points were - because she’s my mother of course she’d know, and that’s what always gives her the upper hand.

“Welcome home mum.” I say as I placed the knife down on the side of the cutting board, walking over to her to greet her properly. I didn’t need her to tell dad that I was now being rude to her, she probably would anyway, but I didn’t want to risk the little chance I had of him even believing me.

I felt my cheek sting, she slapped me across my face and as I looked up at her - she showed no remorse. Instead, the devilish smile she wore tainted my life. It was an image that’d cause me to wake up because it haunted me in my nightmares, something that was so mentally scarring and no matter what it is I tried to do, or how hard I tried to remove that image, I couldn’t.

“Does it hurt, my child? I hope it does. I told you you’d be punished for what you’ve done, and here’s your punishment right now. You told your dad everything didn’t you? That I abuse you, that I don’t love you? It’s just too bad he’ll never believe you, isn’t it?” She hit my head after every single question she asked, her force stronger with every hit but I couldn’t retaliate. She kicked the back of my legs, causing me to tumble forwards. My knees hit the ground as I yelped.

“Don’t think for a second that you’re going to get away with this. Don’t bother screaming either, because no one will help you. Not even your own dad believes in your words and he’s not going to come home any time soon, so it’s just going to be me and you. Like the good old times, where I get to take my anger out on you because you’ve been a terrible daughter, and you can enjoy it.”

Her words didn’t quite end there, as she would beat me she would yell nasty names at me. Call me a useless child that she wish she would have aborted years ago. A child she shouldn’t have had, that dad doesn’t love me, that he’s only doing this because the fans would question him if anything would have ever happened to me. I didn’t want to believe in her words, but it made sense. Everything made sense. When she got tired, she left me there as she continued to finish off the cooking I had left. Was she mentally sane? I doubted her sanity, but then again - I was doubting my own. Knowing that she was done with me, I struggled my way into my room locking the door behind me. I looked at myself in the mirror, I saw all the cuts and bruises forming as I cried at my ugly self. Her beatings no longer hurt, like people would say - if something happens so much and so often, it becomes a regular routine that your body just gets use to and for me, the abuse was the regular routine that my body was accommodated to. The closer I looked at the injuries, the more I’m convinced that my mother was smart. All the areas that were hurt, they looked like injuries I would get from falling. She knew exactly what she was doing, and that was something I was afraid of. Because it’ll always be her word against mine, and nobody would listen to a child. A child who has a wild imagination like me.


pt.4?

I’ve been re-watching Gargoyles because I used to watch it all the time as a kid but I didn’t remember anything about it except that there were gargoyles that were stone during the day and came alive at night. I’m into season 2 now and I can’t help but wonder why more people aren’t talking about the main human character. 

In case you’re not familiar with the show or have forgotten, meet Elisa Maza, New York police officer. Not only is she a good person (she shows again and again that she is dedicated to upholding the law and doing what is just and fair for all involved) but she’s also pretty badass. 

She doesn’t always have the brute strength to beat her enemies in hand-to-hand combat (though she can put up quite a fight) but she makes up for it tenfold with her sharp wit. She’s very good at using her surroundings to her advantage, tracking down criminals, and figuring out the plans of the various villains and magical creatures she and her gargoyle friends encounter.

She also survived a near-fatal gunshot wound (I won’t say who shot her, in case anyone wants to go back and watch the series) and was itching to get back on the job very soon after.

Some of you may have already picked this up but Elisa, in addition to being a badass, is a mixed-race woman of color. This is most of her family (her mother, father, and brother):

Her mother is African American and her father is Native American. Elisa, her brother Derek, and her sister Beth interact with the parts of their heritage on different levels so the show also explores, to an extent, what life is like for the kids in a multi-racial, mutli-cultural family.

I think it’s kind of sad that she doesn’t get more attention, especially here on tumblr where I’m constantly seeing posts asking for portrayals of strong women of color. Why aren’t we talking about Elisa Maza?

Straight White Boy Problem #901

this girl texted me at 10 o clock AT NIGHT and asked “You up???” I responded faster than Cooper can launch a lacrosse ball. “Yeah,” i replied. i wondered what was going on with her. Did she want to come over? She did last week to hang out…..what did she want?? does…does she want the D??? idk but i thought about that for a second and got excited then I remembered i hadn’t taken a shower all day! My room’s a mess! What the hell did she want??? My phone vibrated. The garish light from the digital screen displayed a text which instantly became meaningless to me. “Can you send me the homework?” She knew I would respond to her text. She knew i was up. And she knows that I’m going to send her the homework. I have to wonder….what else does she know about me?

Shadow [Tom Holland]

A/N I’m really happy with this imagine!! This idea came to me in school when I was daydreaming and I couldn’t stop thinking about it :D Hope you like it!!

Summary: Reader is married to Tom Holland, but she doesn’t feel like she is.

Word Count: 2, 585

Pairings: Tom Holland x reader

Warnings: none? a lil angst

Materlist


She sat on the corner of the bed, clutching onto the phone for her dear life. Shaky breaths pierced the silence of the room. She prayed hard. Please. A call. A text. Anything. Her heart ached for some form of contact. She needed to know that he was fine. She needed to know that she was not forgotten. She didn’t realise the tears until the tickle on her cheeks seemed to bother her. Deep breaths. You can do this. For Rosie.

The door creaked open. The squeaking reverberating through the now silent room. She shot up, hoping that he would be at the doorway. Instead, she sees her six year old daughter poke her head through the doorway.

“Mummy…” The little girl looks at her mother. Worry was evident in her eyes. “Are you alright?” She ambled towards the adult. Her mothers lips curled up into a smiled as she wiped the tears away. She had to stay strong for her daughter.

“Mummy is fine. Don’t worry Rosie. It’s just a little itchy.” She rubbed her eyes. By then her daughter had found her way onto her lap. With her tiny hands placed firmly onto her mother’s shoulders, she gently blew air into her mothers eyes. After much inspection, she shrugged and pushed the adult backwards.

They giggled when they fell back onto the bed. Her fingers danced on little body, earning giggles and squeals from her daughter. They swung pillows about, danced to music and sang their hearts out. The laughter of the mother and daughter filled the house, something that hasn’t happened in months.

After a good thirty minutes, they were exhausted. Rosie laid down on the bed and huddled among the pillows and blankets. Rosie was ready to sleep. She tucked her daughter in, placed a kiss on her forehead, and watched.

She scrambled to her feet when your phone buzzed. Maybe it was a text from him. She turned the screen on. It was a text from her mother, asking how they were coping. She let out a soft sigh, hoping that Rosie wouldn’t hear the disappointment.

“Do you miss him?” A soft voice spoke. The phone was placed down onto the bedside table. She hopped into bed and made herself comfortable.

“Mummy misses him so much Rosie…” Don’t cry. Don’t feel. Don’t. She inhaled deeply. She wanted to ask if she missed him, but he was rarely home for her to even know much about him. He was overseas for the first three years. He was busy with projects and films. He never had time to come home, and when he did, it was for a maximum of five days. He didn’t get to spend much time with Rosie. She thought that he was a friend of her mother. Rosie didn’t remember much about him, so much so that when he turned up for Christmas three years ago, she asked “Who are you?”. It disheartened him, so he made effort to calling home whenever he could. But after a year, work start to pile up, and she knew that she couldn’t blame him for not having enough time for her and Rosie.

“But it’s okay darling…” She flashed a smiled at her daughter. She wanted this to end. She wanted to forget. She wanted to put this behind her and move on.

“What do you think of moving?”


He groaned when no one answered the door. He rang it for the umpteenth time, hoping that someone would answer. He frowned. She was home most of the time, so he’d expect her to answer the door. He fished for his keys in his bag, and found them after what seemed eternity. He fiddled with the keys. He attempted to push one key into the keyhole, but it didn’t fit. He had forgotten which key was the one for the door, which key was the one for the shed, or the one that was for the mailbox.

He opened the door, expecting to hear the pitter pattering of feet, but instead, he finds himself standing in dead silence. He scans the house. It’s devoid of any signs of life. No more flowers that she loved, no toys strewn on the floor, no blankets piling up on the couch. It seemed as if no one was living in the house anymore.

He furrowed his brows. Where was she? Where was Rosie? He shut the door behind him, and walked around the living room unhurriedly. His hands ran on the couch, recalling every bit of memory he had of this place. There were few, but they came flooding back into his head. He could almost hear her laughter, her cries, her giggling, and their child.

His eyes stopped at the coffee table. A ring, a bracelet and an envelope sat neatly on the table. He quirked a brow. He picked up the ring, the diamond glistened in the now setting sun. It was the same as his wedding ring. The bracelet. The one he gave to his daughter on her fifth birthday. Or the one he sent. He ripped the envelop open to see a letter written in pencil. It was from Rosie.

Hello Daddy. We’re leaving today. Mummy says that she wants to move out. She says that she wants to leave everything behind. I don’t know why. Sometimes, I hear mummy crying at night. I think it’s because she misses you. She is in a lot of pain, and I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to leave this house, but I want mummy to be happy. So that’s why I’m going with her. I’m going to miss this house, and I think I’ll miss you. I hope that I can see you soon.

Love,
Rosie

He was shocked. He never thought that she’d be in so much pain to leave. He always saw her as a strong and independent woman. He didn’t understand why she decided to leave. How could she miss me that much that she’s willing to leave?

He thought about the last time he came back. It was nine months ago. He thought about the last time he called home. It had been seven months. He thought about the last time he celebrated her birthday with her. It was four years ago. Reality slapped him hard on the cheek. He realised that he had been such a terrible father and husband.

He picked up his phone and dialed the once familiar number. All that was heard was ringing. He dashed out of the house. He had to find her. He called his mother, his brothers, her mother and even her friends. No one knew that she moved. No one knew where she went. He sighed and thought hard of who she’d tell. Harrison. He dialed Harrison. He was right. Harrison knew where you moved to.

He made his way to her house.


He stopped in his tracks in front of the door. He didn’t know what he was going to do. Embrace her with his warm arms? Dot her face with kisses? Pick her up and twirl her around? His was snapped out of his trance when the door opened. He didn’t recall knocking.

“Come on Rosie! Let’s g-” she stopped when she saw him. She didn’t think that he would find out where she was. She thought that he was going to be out of town for another month. She thought that she would never see him again.

She stared into his eyes, she bit her lip. Emotions stared to flood in as if the floodgates had opened. Her hand flew to her mouth, holding in the sobs that threatened to slip out of her mouth. She attempted to close the door, but he stuck his foot out, preventing it from closing.

“Y/N.” Was all he said.

She flashed a small smile before she tried to shut the door again.

“Why’d you move?” He pushed the door open, allowing him to step into the house. She called out for her daughter again, ignoring the questions that came from him.

“Just answer me. Why did you leave?” He raised his voice a little. He was mad. He wanted an answer. He wanted to know why she had left the house they once shared.

“Do you really not know why?” She asked coldly. He looked at her expectantly, awaiting the truth.

“Do you not realise what has happened? Do you not understand the situation? I don’t feel like I am your wife. I don’t feel like you want me. I don’t feel loved by you anymore. Every day, I wait. I wait for a call or a text. I wait for you to show up at the door. Every day, my hope diminishes. Every day, I tell myself that you’re just too busy for your wife and daughter. I find out what you’re doing or where you are through the media. I read articles. I see Instagram posts. I see tweets. It is as if I’m not your wife Tom. It is as if I’m living hidden in the shadows. It is as if I’m just another fan. I don’t want to live as if I am not married to you. I don’t want to live in that house, holding onto the love that may not even exist anymore.” Her voice went weak. She was now crying. Hot tears flowing out like a running tap. She was letting go of all the pent up emotions from the past year. They were finally out.

“I don’t even know if you love me anymore. Every night I lay awake for hours wondering what you’re doing, who you’re with, and maybe even which woman you might have beside you. It pains me to think that way, but it’s all I can do. I can’t be hopeful that you remember me or you love me because I never hear from you. No calls or texts. What used to be surprises became skype calls. Skype calls became phone calls. Phone calls became texts. And it’s reduced to nothing. I haven’t heard anything from you for the past seven months Tom. Don’t you know how hard it is?” She let out a shaky breath.

“I want to call you everyday but every time I pick up the phone, I remember how you haven’t called in ages. I remember how I haven’t seen you in months. I remember the rumours I hear of you dating other people. It makes me think twice. It makes me think that you’ve moved on, and maybe forgot the woman you married.” Her voice was laced with bitterness and sadness. She was broken. She lacked so much love and care that she had fallen into pieces.

Tom stood in front of her, shocked at what he had heard. He never realised his actions would have had such a great impact on her. He thought that by working and earning money, he would supply you with everything you needed. He never realised that what you needed was him. Only now, after hearing her heart, he realises. He realised how their love was built on more than just the cash and gifts.

She turned away from him. She couldn’t bear to reveal any more of her brokenness. She wiped her tears, even though they seemed like a never ending stream. She felt something wrap around her legs. Her daughter embraced her legs into a hug. She laughed a little.

“Mummy is fine… don’t worry dear.” She said, squatting down so that she was at her daughter’s eye level. Her little hands caressed the crying woman’s cheeks, whispering ‘it’s okay’ over and over into her ear, and rubbed her back.

“Rosie…” He said. He watched in amazement as his daughter cared for her. He watched how she whispered ear, how she wiped away the tears, how she reassuring she was towards her mother. All theses things, he did for Y/N before. But now, he finds his daughter doing what he should be doing for his wife.

He bents down and takes his wife’s hand. She mutters something to her daughter before turning to him, standing up again. The little girl ran into another room, maybe to to give them some space.

“I am so sorry.” He starts. “There is no excuse for what I’ve done. I’ve been a terrible husband. A terrible father. And I know that I should’ve done so much more. I should’ve called. I should’ve made more time for you. I am so sorry. Forgive me love. Forgive me. Give me another chance. I love you. I love you so so much, and I will be here for you from now on. Please Y/N.” He slips the ring into her hand. “Please love. Let me show you how much I love you again.”

She looked at the ring in her palm. She admired the details on the ring. She saw the diamond. It was worth thousands, but their love was worth so much more. So much more than this little ring. She used her finger to outline the ring, touching the cold hard metal. She sighed. How could she let go of the love he gave her? But how could she forgive him for abandoning her? She looked up at him. His brown eyes pleaded with her. They begged for forgiveness. They begged for another chance to prove how much he can love. He took her other hand, his warmth now seemed familiar. She looked at the ring, then at their interlocked hands.

“I… can’t.”

His eyes showed it all. It showed the pain he felt. He could feel what you felt.

“I can’t let go of the love you gave me. I can’t let go of the only man I’ve ever loved. I can’t let go of you Tom. I love you too much that it hurts sometimes. I love you so so much.” She smiled at him. He could see the sparkle in her eyes, the ones he fell in love with every time he looked at her.

He was overjoyed. Excitement coursed through his veins. He picked her up, causing a squeal to escape her lips. She pressed her lips on his, savouring the sweet taste of them. He smiled into the kiss and silently thanking God for blessing him with another chance.

A giggled from behind them made them pull apart. There stood their daughter by the stairway, her smile is as a thankful hymn. She was ecstatic. Her mother was finally happy again. She was no longer in pain because of her dad. And she was elated to have her father back, to finally be with him after so long.

“Let’s go for dinner.” Tom gestured towards the door. He knew that they were heading out for dinner when he arrived. Rosie ran up to him, embracing him with her short arms. He picked his daughter up, and peppered kisses on her face. She giggled.

Y/N had opened the door and was ready to leave. She took his hand and smiled. The warmth she felt in her heart now was indescribable. She felt as if her heart was going to burst.

As she walked on the sidewalk, she thought about her situation. It was dumb for her to run away. It was dumb for her to not try even harder. But it was all alright. It always turns out alright in the end.

“Darling?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”


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Return (Pt.1)

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Summary:  (Loki Imagine: Imagine Thanos targeting Loki’s lover to punish him for his failure to get the Tesseract.) Taken from tumblr. Thor finds you during an intense mission with the Avengers. After disobeying Steve’s orders and saving you, Thor is cornered. Who are you? What were you doing there? How did Thor know you? Knowing he has to answer all of these questions, Thor explains everything.

Words: 3447

Read on Ao3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/7616194/chapters/17336539

Thor looked at her with mixed feelings. At first, he felt shock. It came in waves, raising the hairs on his body. He felt confusion and denial. He thought this must be some illusion and went on with the mission. Then he heard her. He heard her screaming his name as loud as she could.

“Thor! Thor please!” Over and over. Disobeying Steve’s orders, he went back for her. He broke her loose, and grabbed onto her tight. Using his hammer, they flew out of there. Back on the Helicarrier, he knew he was going to have to explain. He was going to have to answer questions. Painful ones. He wished he didn’t have to. He wished he didn’t have to say what he knew about this girl, but now was not the time for wishing.

He looked up from his hands where he tried to hide. He sat in a chair next to her. She was completely knocked out. Covered in bandages and a very big blanket, she laid in one of Tony’s personal hospital beds. He bought some just-in-cases, and kept them in a medical wing of the Avengers Tower. Thor looked in front of him. Natasha, Tony, and Steve stood in front of him, waiting. He felt a little scared, but mostly distraught.

“Who is she?” Natasha asked. The question lingered around the room. His shoulders dropped. He felt the weight getting bigger.

“It’s a very long story, Lady Natasha,” Thor replied. He half-hoped he could leave the answer at that.

“Was she your girlfriend before Jane?” asked Tony. He tried to be polite about it, but Tony had his own way of saying things as always. Thor chuckled.

“No, no,” Thor smiled. “Lady Jane is the only woman who has captured my affections completely. This young woman is more of my sister. I care for her very deeply, but not in the romantic sense.” The three Avengers tried to make sense of what Thor was saying. Natasha narrowed in eyebrows out of curiosity. Steve tried side-glancing at Natasha for help. Tony kept talking.

“Thor, I don’t mean to be insensitive, but I think there’s more to this story than you’re letting off,” Tony pointed out. Nat and Steve nodded in agreement.

“You wanted to make sure we brought her back here safe and sound,” Tony walked towards the hospital bed. “We saved a lot of people, but you specifically wanted to bring her back here. Why? I mean, if she is not your girlfriend or anything romantically then who exactly is she?” Thor looked long and hard at Tony, Steve, and Natasha.

“If I tell you who she is, you must promise me to let me explain before taking any action,” Thor’s voice almost sounded like his father’s, like a ruler instead of a friend. The three looked at each other, and nodded in agreement.

“Okay, if she is that important then okay,” Tony said. “Who is she?” Thor cleared his throat and with a very serious voice he said,

“She is Loki’s fiancée.”

After some shouting, some scrambling, and an argument from Tony that was cut short by Nat because Tony said, “Her life shouldn’t be worth that much” and Natasha may or may not have put a knife to his throat and made him swear not to touch her. The four Avengers settled in the living room with some tea except Tony who felt he needed ‘a real drink’ instead. Thor felt their curious eyes on him, and he took that as a cue to start.

“Where to begin,” he sighed.

“How about you start with how you met her?” Natasha’s voice sounded more soothing than usual. She smiled a little, trying to encourage Thor to go on.

“Well,” Thor smiled back finally feeling some comfort. “The first time I met her was when I was with Loki and my friends. We all snuck out of the palace to go and drink at pubs when we were much younger. Lady Sif asked me if she could bring her along her best friend, Lady (Y/N). Fandral agreed immediately because he was dying for more female company. Some planning was involved on Loki’s and Fandral’s parts. They wanted to map out where we should go. My friends, Loki, and I took some horses from the stables and we settled at the first pub while we waited for the girls. Loki was complaining about waiting for them when they came in. Usually, Sif would be in armor, but for this night, she donned a beautiful dress. I will admit I did not want to look away, neither did Fandral or Volstagg. Loki, on the other hand, did not look at Sif at all.

“He was looking at (Y/N). I never seen him so engrossed with any girl before. He had kissed and danced with other girls, but this was different. He looked at her as if she was a book he always wanted to read. Sif introduced all of us to her. (Y/N) smiled with such grace and warmth; she was as beautiful as ever. I remember her first words to me. ‘Sif was right about you. You do look like a hero.” Thor had smiled for a bit allowing himself to return to the memory.

“Sif introduced her to Loki last. You remind me of her, Lady Natasha. Sif was very protective of (Y/N) at that time. She looked like she didn’t want Loki to even breathe the same air as (Y/N). Loki stood up and offered her his seat, but before she could sit down, Sif narrowed her eyes and said ‘Don’t you dare even try’ and sat her next to Hogun. That did not matter though, Loki always gets what he wants.” Thor chuckled.

“How so?’ Steve asked.

“Well, it was only the first pub of the night,” Thor continued with his natural talent of storytelling. “We were all drinking wines and meads, experimenting what tasted better. At the second pub, Fandral kept flirting with Sif, so she was preoccupied while Volstagg, Hogun, and I started a drinking contest with each other. I was determined to out drink both of them even though Volstagg was much bigger than me. No one paid attention to Loki drinking with (Y/N) alone. He whispered little things into her ear and she smiled. He didn’t touch her, but his fingers were always inches away from her. The 3rd pub was extremely crowded. It was so late in the night that many people were drunk, singing songs, and fighting all around us. No one had noticd who we were or how old we were.

“Sif ended up sitting on Fandral’s and my lap. Hogun went home after not being able to hold his own very well, and (Y/N) sat in Loki’s lap. He kept whispering things into her ear, and she would whisper right back. Loki had his arms all over her. Sif didn’t look too happy at what was happening. She asked the pair several times what they were talking about, but neither would reveal the subject. Then, as we went home, the sun was rising. Volstagg carried a passed out Fandral on his horse, Sif was falling asleep on mine. Loki had (Y/N) on his horse. Both of them were drunk and laughing. I remember watching him kiss her as he escorted her home. It wasn’t his first kiss, but it was hers.” Thor smiled at the warm memory.

“What else do you remember about her?” Natasha said. She and Steve became excited to hear more of his memories. Tony stayed back, not yet enchanted by Thor’s words or stories about Asgard.

“So much,” he began. “After the pub night, she was around the palace more. As much as I enjoy Sif’s company, (Y/N)’s company was much more pleasant. She was the complete antithesis of Sif. Where Sif would train for days on end with the Warriors Three and me, Lady (Y/N) would spend her days dancing, reading, and have etiquette training. At balls, she would dance with such grace and ease. Her conversations were always interesting and knowledgable. Once I jumped in one of her ‘famous conversations’ at the wrong time.”

“Was it about something dirty?” Tony asked out of the blue hoping to find interest.

“No, it was about something disgusting, I’m afraid. All I remember is her describing how she cleaned horse shit off the gown she was wearing. She thrived at balls. I did not get to dance with her as much as I wanted to, but when I did, it was always wonderful. Loki would hardly let any other man dance with her. He became very possessive after an incident.”

“Incident?” Steve arched his eyebrow.

“(Y/N) finished her education, and therefore it was time for her to find a suitor, at last according to her parents. At one particular ball, Loki noticed a young man dancing with her for most of the night. He was the son of a respected member of the council. At the end of the night, the young man kissed her cheek and told her how beautiful she was. She blushed. Loki was furious. His face went red, and he kept pacing back and forth until he stormed off. Later that night, (Y/N) came up to me and asked where Loki was. We searched for him, but there was no trace. (Y/N) felt worried and slightly hurt. The next day I hear my father scolding Loki for playing a nasty trick on the councilman’s son.

“What did he do?” Tony smiled, suddenly interested.

“He gave the poor boy a horse’s nose with hooves to match.” The four Avengers laughed out loud, and Tony sat with Steve and Nat to hear more. They shared their drinks with each other and Thor continued on. “Loki would read with her in the library. He drank tea with her every day. He dueled with weaker opponents to make himself look stronger in front of her. They had a very strong friendship. (Y/N)’s famous conversations at balls turned into Loki and (Y/N)’s famous conversations. Everyone who knew them thought they would be a great match for the other. It was very hard to get him to admit his feelings for her.”

“He was scared of rejection wasn’t he?” Steve interjected.

“Yes,” Thor answered right away. “I don’t know why. I tried telling him to just tell her or she feels the same way, but he never believed me. I wanted to tell (Y/N) myself, but then I didn’t have to. My father took us on more dangerous missions and places. An adjacent kingdom was going through a civil war. My father thought it was time for the Warriors Three, Sif, Loki and I to fight in our first war. My mother and (Y/N) were so terrified. My mother argued with my father up and down for two weeks about it. She even threatened to go on a hunger strike, but it was time. We had to do this. Both of them had a very hard time saying their goodbyes. (Y/N) didn’t look Loki in the eye as he said goodbye to her. He misunderstood it as apathy. What I did not know until later was that (Y/N) grew more scared every day for Loki. She would read his favorite works and she wore green hoping it would bring him luck. When we came home, she hugged all of us very hard and crying for joy until she saw Loki.

“She stopped everything and ran to him crying even harder. She grabbed him and kissed him in front of everyone. I think that’s when Loki knew. We had a small celebration that night, and sometime during the middle of it, (Y/N) and Loki disappeared. Fandral found them in the gardens. Sif wanted me to come along and spy on them because after all this time, she did not believe Loki’s intentions to be good. And she was proved wrong. Loki confessed his love for her, and they embraced. It was endearing, and I was jealous.”

“Jealous?” Nat said not believing the words that came out of his mouth. “Of your brother?”

“He had true love, something I did not understand or want yet, but he had it,” Thor continued. “Loki was always much more mature, level-headed, and intelligent than I was. Of course, it would make sense for him to find something like that before I did. But he was happy. They were both so happy after that. In fact, I caught them sneaking into his room that very night. She did not come out until the next morning.”

“You mean?” one of the three said.

“Oh yes, Loki made me promise not to tell Sif or anyone for that matter. He begged me not to, and (Y/N) ran away from his room before anyone could put the pieces together. They were deep in love. The day he asked for her hand was so glorious. It was her name day, and he made an intricate puzzle box that when it opened it revealed a beautiful ring and he recited a poem to go along with it. She said yes, and I gained a sister. There was no one more honorable or more worthy than she was. Everything was so wonderful until the Frost Giants.”

“I’m assuming you’re referring to the time you were exiled here?” Tony asked. “I remember your files.” Thor nodded his head.

“During that time, Loki found out his true parentage, and that Odin would never give him the throne. He seized Asgard as his own, and (Y/N)’s parents became scared of their impending marriage. So, they hid her away. Sif and the warriors three helped, all of them in fear of what Loki would do to her.”

“Do to her? Did he threaten to hurt her?” Nat asked.

“No, he would never hurt her, but I was the only one to believe that. He became more violent. More unhinged. Sif would tell me how (Y/N) would cry every night because she only wanted to help Loki and that he needed her. She didn’t understand that he succumbed to the darkness around him. He sent out parties to find where she was hiding. Eventually, he had her parents thrown in the dungeon because they would not say. Then, our fight happened, and Loki killed himself, or so we thought. (Y/N) became so heartbroken, she considered suicide as well.

“Sif would visit her every day, and her parents had arranged for her to marry someone else. Until Loki was spotted on Midgard.”

“Germany,” Steve said.

“Yes, Heimdall burst into the palace informing everyone about this. Odin immediately allowed me to go to Midgard and try to bring him home. As I left, I had hoped to bring back my brother. What I did not expect was to lose a sister when I came back.”

“She attempted—

“No,” Thor looked to the ground in defeat. “She was taken by Thanos. After Loki failed him, Thanos’ men were seen at (Y/N)’s residence. They took her, and she wasn’t seen again. No one could find her, not even Heimdall. Sif went on a rampage. I have never seen her so angry or so saddened. My heart broke to think my almost sister was taken so suddenly, and I let her slip through my fingers. Loki had no idea until his trial after New York.”

“Loki didn’t know she was taken?” Nat asked. “He had no idea at all?”

“No. I will always remember the look on his face when he found out. He was terrified. However, this did not stop my father from rubbing this loss in his face.”

“And you haven’t seen her since until tonight?” Nat replied.

“Yes,” Thor nodded. “We all assumed she died. That Thanos murdered her as punishment for Loki’s failures. Loki was sick to his stomach for weeks in his cell, or so I am told. To see her here, to know she is alive.” Thor’s voice trailed off.

“What do you want to do now?” Steve asked. “You wanted to explain before we took action.”

“Lady (Y/N) is a kind, loving soul,” Thor said. “I don’t know if she still loves Loki, but please do not place judgment on her. She is good. Please do not punish her because of Loki.”

“Done, but I want to ask her a few questions about Thanos and where she’s been,” Tony took the last sip of his second drink.

“And we must tell Loki that she is alive and here.” Thor ordered, sounding like his father again.

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Nat said.

“This woman is everything he ever loved. Everything he ever wanted is her,” Thor said. “Before New York, before he found out his true heritage, there was a time where he would have gladly given up the throne and power for her. I love this woman as my own sister, and I am so relived she is safe. Please extend that courtesy to my brother. He deserves to know his love is alive.”

The Avengers took it to Fury, explaining the situation. SHIELD had their say and laid out rules. Loki had to be in chains, escorted by Thor at all times, and he must obey every order given to him. Loki was brought to the Tower somewhat confused, but apathetic. Loki donned some Midgardian-like clothing. He did not know what to expect until he reached his brother’s mournful face.

“Did that old oaf finally die?” Loki’s venomous words made Thor inhale sharply.

“That oaf is our father—

“Your father,” Loki corrected. “So, did he or did he not?”

“This is not about the Allfather, Loki,” Thor tried to explain, hoping his brother would listen. “This is about someone entirely different.”

“Who then?” Loki asked. The chains clinked slightly as he moved. Loki smiled wickedly. “Is it your Jane? Or your friends? Hm?” Thor frowned at Loki.

“This is about Lady (Y/N),” Thor said. Loki froze. The wicked smile deteriorated and anger grew in its place. His nostrils flared. His eyes stared daggers at him.

“What about Lady (Y/N)?” Loki spat. “Do you wish for me to remind you of what I know? Is that why you brought me here? So you can show your little friends how everything is my fault again? Do you wish to gloat how your lover is safe and sound while—

“She is alive, Loki,” Thor cut in.

“What?”

“(Y/N) is alive,” Thor pointed to the room behind him. Behind a glass wall lay (Y/N). Her hair spread out on the pillow. She breathed steadily, and all cuts seemed to be healed. Her body covered in blankets.

“I found her during this last mission,” Thor explained, hoping to ease the shock. “I don’t know how she got there, but she was there. Loki, she was so cold. Her whole body was ice.” Loki stopped all talking at once. His breathing hitched, and he started walking towards the glass wall. He dragged the chains behind him and studied her. The way she slept, the way she breathed, her hair, her hands, everything. Tears formed in his eyes.

“Thor,” Loki said in a low voice. “I may have caused you pain in the past, even threaten your loved ones, but this? This is cruel. This is a very cruel trick, brother.”

“This is no trick.”

“She died, Thor!” Loki shouted at him. “(Y/N) was murdered! She was taken from her safe abode and was murdered because of me! I failed! This was Thanos’ punishment! I failed him! I murdered her!” Loki’s crying hushed everyone around them.

“Loki,” Thor started. “I thought she died too, but look at her. That is her. I know it is. We found her during a mission. She is alive. I assure you that is her in there.” Thor took his brother’s shoulder and massaged it. Loki pressed his forehead against the glass.

“I have to know. I need to make sure it’s her, please,” Thor looked at Tony and Steve for clearance. Steve immediately nodded his head. Tony exhaled.

“Let him in, Tony,” Pepper said quietly behind him. Tony nodded his head as well, giving in to the pressure. Thor escorted Loki into the room. They both stepped carefully closer to her bed. A steady beep of the heart monitor and Loki’s nervous breathing were the only things that could be heard. He reached the side of her bed, and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. After the gentle touch, Loki put his hand down. His lip quivered, and suddenly he couldn’t take it anymore. Loki broke down over her, sobbing hard.

What the hell is this

 I wrote something friends

I’m assuming most of you wont really care? But hey, I had fun. 

It’s some SidLInk drabble. Not even really drabble. I just kinda wrote a story with a very brief and glossed over plot that I explained in weird clumps of paragraphs at a time. 

For all of my SidLink friends, hell the fuck yes this game has only been out for about a week and we’re already in hell

The rest will be under the cut after this first paragraph snippet, have fun stay happy plant a tree

Sidon had noticed something as of late.

As a Zora, he had previously stated and would continue to state that water and air were as one to him. Both were calming, both were home.

What he was noticing, however, was something he found odd. Link found water very calming.

Keep reading

Oh, please (Mark x FemReader) fluff

Originally posted by jiminy-krispies

(( gif not mine ))

(A/n): Lmaoooooo kill meeee

Summary: Mark plays “Playground Insults” for a video

Warnings: Swearing yo

SOME OF THESE INSULTS ARE HARD

LIKE I MEAN THAT THEY ARE ROUGH SO I’M SORRY I MEAN NONE OF THIS ON AN OFFENSIVE LEVEL

I AM WELL AWARE THAT SOME MAY HAVE CROSSED THE LINE

_____

“Hello, everybody! My name is Markiplier and welcome… to this weeks video.”

Mark offered to the camera a joyous point, his words freezing in midair as he halted his voice.

The camera zoomed in awkwardly on his face.

“TODAY,” the brunette continued, camera panning back out “we will be playing Playground Insults.”

“Playground Insults is a game created by the lovely men on BBC Radio One.” Mark said “If you don’t know what the game is, I highly suggest you maybe look into one of their video’s. Right here. On youtube.”

Mark’s explanation was soundly finished as Ethan popped into frame from the right of the tanned youtuber.

“Also!” Ethan said “Special guest (Y/n) is here!”

At that mention, to the left of Mark, the said girl appear in the same fashion as Ethan.

“HELLO.” She called heartedly, throwing both arms high “Greatness, has obviously arrived~”

The shorter male in the middle scoffed and looked into the camera lens. He said:

“What are you talking about? I’ve been here the whole time.”

“And that’s why no one recognizes your greatness, you’re too easy to forget.” Ethan laughed back. This triggered a series of giggles from (Y/n) as she walked back to get some chairs.

“ruDE.”

❆   ❆   ❆

Mark and Ethan sat facing one another with hard faces. Neither were smiling, nor were either of them blinking.

“Okay,” said Tyler from behind the set up camera “Ethan can start.”

The dark blue backdrop that stood in the background of Ethan and Mark’s scene gave off a sense of maturity.

“Mark, there is a good chance that you are the reason your dad got cancer.”

Mark puffed his cheeks in restraint as he held back a laugh. He cleared his throat in a small manner and looked Ethan dead in the eyes.

“You are the real superhero of youtube, Ethan- specialty is the power of disappointment.”

Ethan let loose a louder snort like laugh and had to readjust himself as Mark chuckled as well.

“Well Mark,” Ethan finally began “you looked better with glasses.”

Mark almost lost it at that dumb remark. This process went back and forth for at least three more minutes before Mark had finally, truly, lost it. Ethan had called him youtube’s personal bitch. So because of that, the blue boy won.

After that duo, Ethan faced off with Tyler.

To no one’s surprise, Tyler won. A little bit because of the fact that Mark and (Y/n) laughing behind the scenes helped crack Ethan.

Next to face off, were Markimoo and (Y/n). The latter was quite confident in herself- and her ability to roast effectively.

“Alright so, since Mark lost against Ethan, he can serve first this time.” Came Tyler’s voice as he consciously readjusted the camera. Mark rolled his neck.

“(Y/n), you remind me of why I didn’t vote for Trump.”

(Y/n) pushed out an alarming short noise of amusement, covering her mouth quickly while Mark’s face remained cool.

“You know, sometimes I feel like saving that insanely annoying dog from your vocal chords.” was the girls comeback. It made Mark stutter an unsteady laugh.

Mark asked “Where do you… keep your diamond play button?”

(Y/n) inhaled sharply but was quick to return.

“If you ever look down and wonder why you have such a small dick, remember three quarters of it is shoved into your personality.”

Mark opened his mouth to say something back but promptly closed it again. He shook his head hardly- allowing a shallow smile to creep onto his lips. (Y/n) started to spit a laugh.

The brunette though, wasn’t quite done yet.

“You’re right. At least the other quarter is in your mouth at night.”

(Y/n)’s laugh hitched high. She sat silently laughing for several seconds before breathing in and regaining herself.

“At this point… if I ever wanted to go skydiving, I could jump from your arrogance to your youtube video standards.” she shot back, crossing her legs and folding her hands in a petty manner. She broke a little and giggled inwardly at her own joke.

Mark was sat pushing out several broken laughs before saying desperately:

“If I was trapped in your body for a day, the first thing I would do, is pay you a favour and get plastic surgery.”

(Y/n) smiled warmly and said back:

“If I was trapped in your body for a day, the first thing I would do is play with my boobs.”

That was it. That set Mark tumbling off the edge.

He laughed long and hard and so did (Y/n); his girlfriend praising herself for her perfect remarks.

“Ah- ah, you win!” Mark breathed, gripping (Y/n)’s palm in a handshake. She shook back and stood up with her boyfriend.

Mark reassured the girl with “I didn’t mean any of those, darling, I love you too much to say anything even close to harsh.”

“I meant everyone of those, sweet pea.” She commented in response, straightening her shirt.

Mark’s face flushed in surprise for about two seconds before realizing (Y/n) didn’t mean it. He laughed once more and said cutely.

“Shut up, you love me.”

(Y/n) smiled at him.

“I guess I kinda’ have to.”

_____

(A/n): lmao a lot of these were insults I used in actual conversations

like real people do p.4 | jeon jungkook

summary: the feelings for your friends with benefits are changing. months pass, and you feel your gut telling you that you want more. you’re just not sure if he feels the same.

genre: angst/romance/eventual smut

college student!reader, friends with benefits!jungkook

piece 1, piece 2, piece 3, piece 4

Keep reading

Maybe it’s too late at night and I’m over thinking things but has it ever crossed anyone’s mind that Regina and Emma were just…more? And this is giving no “deeper meaning” credit to the writers but of all the saving and believing and refusing to give up and refusing to live without and determined to get back, I can’t help but wonder if in some way this relationship was just more.

More than friends. 

More than lovers. 

Regina Mills and Emma Swan thrive and survive and fight for each other, with each other. Couldn’t really live without each other (and their son).

So, they’re not true loves (Debatable, most definitely) but they do love each other more than what A&E were capable of mentally grasping and creating on screen intentionally. And that love is curious. 

Emma doesn’t have a soulmate that was ever mentioned that I remember (nor does she have a confirmed true love. Just saying.) Regina’s soulmate situation was honestly very questionable. 

And I wonder what if, not to discredit OTP SQ because I still ship it and will forever without a doubt, their relationship was just more than the bounds of friendship and romance could comprehend. It transcends attraction…and subtext. 

Emma and Regina, Regina and Emma. Dark and Light, Light and Dark. 

Two pieces that cannot fully exist without the other.

They were soulmates. They are soulmates.

Nine to Five (Part 7)

Pairing: Stiles x Reader

A/n: This part was a killer to write, I apologize in advance. Not my gif. I changed the tenses in this part, I just feel more comfortable writing like this. Little smut in this.

Part 6 | Part 7  | Part 8


Your heart pounds against your chest as you stare into the eyes of Stiles who was hovering over your body, his tongue gliding across his bottom lip. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispers into your skin, kissing down your collarbone to your breasts.

Keep reading

SOME LEGIT MCLENNON QUOTES:
  • “One of my great memories from John is from when we were having some argument. I was disagreeing and we were calling each other names. We let it settle for a second and then he lowered his glasses and he said, ‘It’s only me…’ and then he put his glasses back on again. To me, that was John.” -Paul
  • “We were each other’s intimates.” -Paul, The Beatles: A Biography
  • “Paul and I know each other on a lot of different levels that very few people know about.” -John
  • Q Magazine - 1998 
    Q: “If John Lennon could come back for a day, how would you spend it with him?”
    Paul: “In bed.”
  • “I have had two companions in my life. Paul McCartney and Yoko Ono. That’s not bad” –John
  • Interview of 1975 for Hit parader
    Q: “Yeah, your friends…”
    John: “Yes, all your best friends let you know what’s going on. I was trying to put it ‘round that I was gay, you know– I thought that would throw them off… dancing at all the gay clubs in Los Angeles, flirting with the boys… but it never got off the ground.”
    Q: “I think I’ve only heard that lately about Paul.”
    John: “Oh, I’ve had him, he’s no good.”
    (laughter) 
  • John talking about when Paul first joined The Quarry Men: “But he was good, he was worth having. He looked like Elvis. I dug him.”
  • “Whatever bad things John said about me, he would also slip his glasses down to the end of his nose and say, ’I love you’. That’s really what I hold on to. That’s what I believe. The rest is showing off.” -Paul
  •  “A song by an old estranged fiancee of mine called Paul” -John speaking of “I Saw Her Standing There”
  • “She (Yoko) recalls hearing people in the Apple office who called McCartney 'John’s Princess.’” -Unknown (Cant find who said this but it was someone who worked at Apple)
  • “One time Paul had a chick in bed and John came in and got a pair of scissors and cut all her clothes into pieces calling her a whore and what not. He got like that occassionaly.”-George
  • “I just saw a girl who said she saw John Lennon walking down the street in New York wearing a button that said, "I love Paul.” she asked him, “Why are you wearing an 'I love Paul’ button?” and he said, “Because I love Paul.”-Harry Nillson
  • “He was always saying, 'I wonder what Paul is doing.’ When John and I were together, and this is about a week or two before our relationship ended, I remember him saying, 'Do you think I should write with Paul again?’ I said, 'Absolutely. You should because you want to. The two of you as solo performers are good, but together you can’t be beaten.” -May Pang
  • “We were recording the other night, and I just wasn’t there. Neither was Paul. We were like two robots going through the motions. We do need each other alot. When we used to get together after a month off, we used to be embarrassed about touching each other. We’d do an elaborate handshake just to hide the embarrassment… or we did mad dances. Then we got to hugging each other.” -John

Im just saying if they aren't your OTP they should at least be your BROTP because hell they loved each other SO fucking much and that is obvious. Even after the break-up of the Beatles when they both were so stubborn and angry with each other they still cared for each other so much. Their friendship is golden and a beautiful, beautiful thing. 

Just wanted to say something on the whole Beth choosing Morty over Summer in situation.

The worst part is that she didn’t even hesitate in choosing Summer.

It was instant.

I know it would be unbelievably hard to choose between your children but that’s the thing, it didn’t seem she was choosing quickly under stress, she knew she was choosing Summer and what that meant.

Morty rarely gets any hint of familial love and it really fucks me up to think about how emotionally neglected the poor lil sweetheart is. I can only image how small, insignificant, and unloved he feels all the time :(

That’s why I love both the manipulative Ricks and the sweet, loving Ricks in fic. It’s always lovely to see both sides but sometimes it’s so sad to remember that our Morty in the show isn’t getting kisses and cuddles and love.

I wouldn’t be surprised if he laid in bed at night, wondering if anyone would care if he disappeared and if any of his family actually loved him. :’(